BILLY SOUIER IS ARTICULATE

The sales of Emotion In Motion were in the neighborhood of 425,000 during the first 10 days it was available to the public. Someone told me that backstage after a Squier show; somebody else told me 450,000. Just for fun, I figured it out: if every record store in America was open round the clock, a copy of Emotions was being dealt about every two secords. In other words, in the time it took you to read this story so far, four or five Emotions were moved. This indicates that Squier is the hottest persona in show biz that has three consecutive vowels in his name.

Why is Mr. S. such a big deal? Could it be his unwipe-able pout? His deathless duende to women? Writing roller rinkdom's greatest tune?? Sounding "quite a bit" like Robert Plant???

Give yourself five points for any answer and a bonus point for "all this and more." Squier is either becoming a big star or is doing an excellent imitation of becoming a big star. After 14 years in the biz, our boy is finally making lots of money, reaching lots of people, and all that other stuff that happens to big stars. (Readers who are interested in Bill's unique struggle to the top are commended to read CREEM's October '81 issue, in which John Neilson —whose favorite band is Iron Maiden, by the way—described the unique struggle imimitably.)

As for me, I caught the every-two-second Bill near the beginning of what appears to be a year-long tour. He was opening for Queen, who are pals of his and a group he either admires or worships. (Tom Mohler, who squires Billy on the road, opined that the Squier/Queen bill was—along with Van Halen—one of the few money-makers in the U.S. these days. Go get 'em, D.L.) Despite his schedule (extremely tight), Bill graciously consented to the interview, which took place in his penthouse suite. Even more graciously, he wouldn't rest until he found me some Coke, which turned out to be just down •£■ the hall in the pop machine.

For those of you who take an interest in § these things, Billy's kinda skinny, shorter than me (5'11V2"), and doesn't look like he's scowling at all, close up. He's an easy guy to talk to, and he pretty much makes sense when he says something. All of which means it's extremely unlikely he'll ever get my job.

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I have a friend who's a DJ in Detroit, I was talking to him last night—you know how the DJs get the weekly DJ rags,

Sure. Yeah.

This one's called Friday Morning Quarterback.

Yeah. That's the big one.

Well, he'd just got it, and I said, "Well, I'll be talking to Billy Squier tomorrow," and he said, "Boy, I should've brought you this Friday Morning Quarterback because all these program directors and music directors are saying Squier is—" Let's see, I don't want to offend you. Saying something like "He's found the perfect formula. "

That's not offensive to me. I know why you use the word "offensive"—

"Formula" is the word.

Yeah. I wouldn't want to be thought of as a person who sits down and tries to concoct a formula. And I don't. But, at the same time, you develop a formula. We all develop a formula for what we do. Not consciously, saying "I've got to go A-B-CD," but—as a songwriter, for instance—I grew up with a certain kind of music, I adopted a certain style of music, and, as such, that is a formula. It can change; it's not a strict formula. But there's certain, uh, credos that I go by, so to speak...for example, I don't tend to write long, drawn-out songs, I don't have long, drawn-out solos in my music. I do happen to like guitars and drums a lot, so there's certain things that—as I define them more and more—as I become more and more concise in my approach, just because of what I like, it does become a formula in a sense.

Are you just lucky, then? That what you like and what you like to write just happens to coincide with what a lot of people want to hear?

No, I don't think lucky is the right word. But—certainly—fortunate.

Or smart.

Well, it's probably—it's a bit of both. I have been a student of music and the business and I've applied myself a lot, so I wouldn't say that I'm here by luck. I've been doing it for 14 years (Bill's 32, by the by.) So I didn't just get this idea a couple of years ago that I was gonna be a rock 'n' roll star!

So I wouldn't say it's luck, but there's an element of luck in everything that we do, and I think that it's fortunate that my time finally came around. I've been doing the same basic style of music for many years. I mean, I have improved—

Is that why you're hot? Because you've improved?

I think it's probably a combination of a few things; I'd certainly like to think it's because I've improved, y'know? Like, I'm a more concise songwriter, a better singer, whatever—that I've learned to make records that cire of a certain standard. But sometimes you can be doing things that are not necessarily proper for the times. In a certain sense, I was doing that before.

Queen Is something of a legend, and It's an honor to be the first act to tour as an opener for Queen.

My first album was reasonably close to what I'm doing now. It wasn't that far off. But it wasn't as good—Tail Of The Tape was not as good as Don't Say No. But it wasn't that far off...yet the commercial difference between the two is very great. You mean the sales.

Yeah, So: you can be out of step somewhat without it being especially bad. Maybe the audience just caught up to you.

Sometimes that happens. Bob Seger's a good example of it, too, I think. You go back and listen to a lot of the early Bob Seger albums and there's some great stuff on 'em. And he didn't change that much. I mean, he got better...

I think he changed a little.

Yeah, he changed a little, but he didn't suddenly change his whole attitude and his sensibilities towards his career. I think he improved, he consolidated a bit—but there's some stuff on the early records that's good too, that nobody pays any attention to.

Tell me, since you've brought up the records, just what is this production hocuspocus you've got going? I read about it in the paper today.

I don't know; what does it say? I didn't read it.

Oh, I don't know—you were quoted as saying that you weren't going to spill the beans or something—shit, I should've brought it with me.

You know, I think I can guess—somebody asked me a question like "How do you make these records?"

They were talking about you re-mixing the album.

I did do that. But sometimes people say "How do you get this sound?" and I say, well, I can't really tell you. It's hot such a big secret, but I probably don't have—and you probably don't have—several days for me to go show you what I do. It doesn't make any sense to start talking about what technically goes on in a recording studio, because the layman doesn't understand what goes on in a studio.

Then let me ask you this: are you doing things differently than other people?

Only to the extent that we're all different, and I have a certain outlook on things. I have certain sounds that I want to hear and I like to capture a certain ambient live quality. Which a lot of people try to do—the only way it's different is that my ears are peculiar to me. Nobody hears things the way I do, so, therefore, you could put a dozen people in a room saying they like to make live-sounding records and they won't sound anything alike.

It's just techniques that you develop, and that's another reason why it's hard to explain. It's not so much a secret; it's just a difficult thing to translate to a person who isn't involved in it.

That's me. Is it Mack (Bill's co-producer) or is it you?

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Both. It's both...originally, the first record we did together was Don't Say No. One of the reasons I sought Mack out was for the sound quality of the records he made, whether they be the ones with Queen or the ones with Electric Light Orchestra. I felt, in hearing them—even though they were all different—that there was a certain thread that held them all together, and that was the sound and the dynamics, which I attribute to him. And I was fortunate enough to be right—that he does have that ability—so, on Don't Say No he really taught me a lot. I had my notebook out, watching everything he did. He's really brilliant; his instrument is the studio. And he's really brilliant for me, 'cause he hears things the way that I do. Why the re-mix, then (of Emotions)? And what about this so-called accident you had?

I spent a lot of time on it to get it exactly right. I was putting in 16 to 18 hours a day re-mixing, under a lot of pressure because of tour schedules and that. So, when I finally got it done, I felt exhilirated. It was a nice summer day, so I decided to walk home. The studio is about 30 blocks from where I live—this is in New York.

About a block away from home I decided to stop in at a supermarket and pick up some staples. So I was walking down the aisle and, all of a sudden, I started to see lights and things. Like people are snapping flash bulbs in your face. And I thought, "I better get out of here." I remember walking towards the front of the store, but I never made it. The next thing I knew I was on the floor with paramedics all around; the whole thing. I'd fallen into a shelf of Hawaiian Punch or something. I had to stay in bed a week and my doctor wanted me to cancel the first half of the tour, which 1 wouldn't do. The whole thing was due to nervous exhaustion and emotional letdown...neurons misfiring. It's really a strange thing when it happens to you.

It sounds like a lot of fun. Why didn't you take your doctor's advice? Is touring that much fun?

I love it. It's the one time that, for an hour or two, you can make the world exactly like you want it. The stage is yours—and very few people ever get to experience that. I don't think anybody takes their problems onstage with them— you're not worrying about paying your rent or your girlfriend—playing is therapeutic. Now, if you could just do something about those other 22 hours.

You know, a lot of people are wondering why you're opening for Queen, instead of vice versa.

(Laughing.) Actually, it's an honor— Queen is something of a legend. I think this tour is one of the best going...and it's an honor to be the first act to tour as an opener for Queen. Plus, by the time they're on, I'm usually in a restaurant. That's the bonus of being the opening act. You did some work with Freddie (Mercury) and Roger (Taylor) in the studio ("Everybody Wants You.") Would you like to play onstage with them?

They were a real inspiration in the studio; they hear things much like I do, too. But we're both still working our acts out. And their shows are so structured... what are they gonna say in the middle of a set: "And now, here's Billy Squier?" Actually, I might be a little afraid to play with them.

How about other musicians? Is there anyone you particularly admire, or would like to work with?

Urn...I would like to work with other artists as a producer. But no one really comes to mind. I mean, I could say that Pete Townshend's a great instrumentalist, for example, but I don't know him. I played with Hendrix a couple of times, back in '69 or '70. We used to rehearse at the same place. Actually, though, I didn't play all that much—I'd stop and just watch him.

Probably well worth watching, too. Hey, Bill, how about this one? One of the writers said the reason you're doing so well is because there hasn't been a Led Zeppelin album out for awhile.

It might be true. Actually, that's not so bad. If people say I sing like Robert Plant, well, Robert Plant's a pretty good singer. I kind of miss Led Zeppelin, but I don't miss the competition (laughs.) Why make things any harder on myself than they have to be? And Robert Plant's got an album out now and it hasn't hurt me.

You've noticed that I've carefully refrained from classifying your music.

Hey, I thought up a name for my music, because people are always asking, "What type of music do you play?" It might sound stupid—I call it "articulate rock."

It sounds pretty good to me. I mean, "rock's" a good word, and "articulate" carries some meaning, at least.

Yeah. Well, obviously, I think a lot. And I've always been a loner—I'm an only child.

You sound articulate enough to me. I only wish you were like David Lee Roth and eminently quotable.

And thoughtless and irresponsible. No, Roth is obviously very good at what he does. But I've never seen Van Halen; in fact, they're about the only act I haven't seen. I'd like to see them, actually...I can't think of a better young guitar player than Eddie Van Halen.

Yeah, he's good. And Roth —well, the guy's gone, but he's certainly honest and really likeable. But it makes me wonder: with all this rock-type success, will you ever be able to settle down? You talked about it the last time CREEM interviewed you.

I don't take it back. But there are times when your career is more important and times when settling down seems more attractive. Right now, I'm preoccupied with this tour, which is going to last a long time. (Makes an up-and-down gesture with his hands.) I don't know; one day you feel your career's more important, the next day you want something else. That's life.^